


Discard

by TheVagabondGod



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Lots of Thinking, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVagabondGod/pseuds/TheVagabondGod
Summary: He'll show you a crown, tell you how he wore it for years.He watched the land fall around him, and fell with it. Only to rise alone.





	1. Chapter 1

He tilts his crown back up from where it has slipped down on his head.  
It doesn't sit like it used to.  
The thought frustrates him.  
The crown is dented, precious stones missing, he finds himself hating the fact he hadn't cared for it better sooner.  
Music plays in the background as he regards his image in the mirror.  
It isn't important at all.  
It shouldn't be important.  
It can't be important.  
He sighs.  
It is important.  
His hair is starting to get long, and he can't help but think back to the first time he decided he'd allow his hair to grow past his jaw. How the man who used to cut his hair, had regarded him with a steady gaze, green eyes searching, and had nodded.  
But now his hair is well past his shoulders, the black hair that sits close to his skull is like ink spilling into the long blonde hair below.  
He's always intended on going back to his natural colour, but every time he tried, he saw the crown resting on the black, and struggled to breath, as he thought of death.  
His mind flashes to burning, to screaming, to the way she had grasped his hand tightly even as she screamed, she hadn't tried to get out.  
She had suffered, and suffered, and suffered.  
The memory makes him want to puke.  
He adjusts the crown again, considers finding someone who can fix it, changes his mind.  
It wouldn't be the same.  
Nothing will ever be the same, his heart aches, for all the memories he has, they mean nothing now.  
He hates how the past has passed, and how it no longer holds meaning.  
Dreads the future, because each moment becomes meaningless as soon as it has passed.  
He knows the others think differently.  
Gavin.  
The fool, he looks forward to flying cars, likes to jog around the room, arms out stretched like the wings of a plane, he jokes he will go higher than anyone else, he will fly his car to the moon, and claim it for their crew.  
Michael, has hope for a future.  
His wife is pregnant, and he holds desire for the world to improve, holds a heartache that says he has high chances of out living his child and nearly everyone he will ever love.  
Jack, can't exist without hope.  
He hates to look at her face, how she seems so naive at times, he knows she isn't, rather, she's an optimist at heart, and no amount of years can change that.  
He adjusts the crown again.  
The place is silent, and he yearns to hear Gavin and Michael rough housing like they usually do, yearns to hear Jeremy as he tries to split the pair but always ends up giving up and joining them.  
He listens carefully, trying to pick up some sound from Ray, the lad is probably on his DS.  
There's nothing but silence, so James Ryan Haywood closes his eyes, and wills his mind to be as silent as the world around him.


	2. Chapter 2

He thinks a lot about the different people he's known.  
Most of them are dead.  
He hates the smell of meat.  
It makes him think of burning flesh.  
He gags at the smell of meat, has never learned to ignore the smell.  
Gavin crows loudly whenever it happens, sometimes wakes up early in the morning just to cook bacon for breakfast and poke fun at Ryan.  
It's all in good fun. He's never told anyone about his first life. How it ended in fire, and lead to him waking up in ashes.  
A blonde seems to constantly be dancing through his memories, her laugh echoing through memories she had no part of.  
Green eyes alight, her face is radiant like the sun, and Ryan hates the sight of it, so she's always just out of reach, and just beyond where he can see.  
Ryan hates to look into green eyes.  
  
  
  
He gazed out over the city.  
It felt like the entire city was both resting and waiting.  
And in a city like this, such calmness was rare.  
The cool wind felt nice in his hair, and while he knew he probably had some bad memory related to this detail, it wasn't surfacing on it's own, and he wasn't inclined to try searching one up.  
He kept his eyes open, watched several birds as they surfed along the wind.  
Maybe Gavin was right to look forward to flying cars, he could imagine how wonderful it would be to be up in the sky.  
He was up on the roof to avoid the smell of meat.  
Geoff enjoyed a good steak with his beer in the evenings.  
A shiver ran down his spine, he sighed and considered going inside.  
Not that cold bothered him.  
He preferred the cold to heat.  
He could recall being sick in the past, Jack looking after him.  
She had bundled him up in blankets, had the fire roaring, all in an attempt to keep him warm.  
The feeling of being so hot had only made him worse, for a week he had been unable to keep anything in his stomach, be it liquid or solid, all of it had come back up.  
Jack had been bewildered, she had wanted to take him to the hospital, but Ryan had assured her it would pass.  
And it had passed. Everything passed eventually.  
A bird landed on the each of the building, regarded Ryan with a curious gaze, it chirped and hoped towards him.  
He gazed back, his own eyes dull despite the bright blue of his eyes.  
The bird paused there for a moment, and then it was gone.  
Ryan had many memories of birds.  
'Ryan?'  
He turns at the voice automatically, hand reaching up to check he doesn't have his crown on.  
He doesn't feel like being laughed at today.  
Jack approaches him rather cautiously, she's the only one whose ever considered Ryan's past, or rather what she knows of it.  
He's never told them what he did before them, before his years and years of wandering and what it took to earn the name of Vagabond.  
And so she's cautious of what Ryan might not have told them.  
'What are you doing up here?' she asks, she tilts her head back, automatically closing her eyes against the soft stirring of the wind.  
She looks peaceful with the way her hair moves around her face.  
Ryan shrugs, 'Just getting some air.'  
With a long sigh, Jack opens her eyes again, regards the city around them with a level gaze, 'Ready to come back inside?' she asks.  
He pauses, watches her for a moment, then nods, chooses not to speak.  
The pair reenter the penthouse together, Ryan takes a deep breath before the smell of meat can hit him, does his best not to breath in through his nose.  
Immediately Gavin is bouncing around in front of him, speaking rapidly.  
Ryan tries to listen, but it's really all the same.  
He closes his eyes.  
  
  
  
 _Her hand is smooth in his, she has fine small features, he enjoys gazing at her face._  
 _He likes to think he would still love her face just as much if it hadn't been so delicately beautiful._  
 _She always sat with her back straight, chin raised, like a queen should._  
 _In the evenings they would walk through the town that surrounded their castle home._  
 _Ryan had never been sure where she had come from._  
 _He had been in his nineteen winter when she arrived, she had been wearing a raggedy dress, but her head had been raised in such a way that she couldn't have been accustomed to being poor._  
 _From the moment he saw her, he had been intrigued._  
 _His father had tried to sway him away from this strange girl, but late into his twenty-first winter, Ryan had married her anyway._  
 _She had ignored him for a full six months after arriving before he finally gained her attention, she had been quietly amused the whole time._  
 _Nothing had made Ryan happier than listening to her speak._  
 _But now whenever he thought of her, all he could hear was the sound her screams, the smell of her flesh and hair burning._  
 _Nothing had ever lit up her eyes as much as the brightness of the fire reflecting into them._  
  
  
  
Lindsay's hands are gentle in his hair.  
He doesn't mind when any of the females of the crew braid his hair.  
Jack has always been the gentlest, but Lindsay has been improving with practice.  
And she's been insisting on braiding his hair more often, claiming she needs to practice styling hair in case she has a daughter.  
Quite often when her hands are unoccupied, they rest on her stomach, and Michael seems to do the same, like she is his sun, and he cannot keep his hands off her.  
They smile almost constantly when around each other.  
Ryan wishes he could say it makes him feel sick, but it merely makes him feel lost.  
He'd had something like that once.  
His heart aches with loneliness, but he cannot bring himself to allow himself to fall.  
Jack approaches them, rests a hand on Ryan's shoulder as she examines Lindsay's work, 'You're getting better,' she speaks in a reassuring tone, eyes friendly.  
Being the only two females within the main crew, they're a little closer than the other friendships within the crew.  
They try to set time aside each week, meet with the girls of the B team.  
It's nice, and despite the fact he's very clearly not a woman, Ryan has been invited along a few times. It's always been a nice time.  
'I was thinking of taking a hair styling class,' confesses Lindsay to Jack, as cheerful as ever.  
Jack blinks, hesitates, then her smile returns, as bright as ever, 'Sounds nice,' is all she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make longer and less broken up chapters in all the current works I have going, but that may take some time.  
> So to those who read what I write, thanks for giving it a chance.


End file.
